


if you must mourn (don't do it alone)

by rosehathaway



Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erin is missing Nadia, Established Relationship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Drug Addiction, and Jay comes over to comfort her, it's cute you'll love it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 01:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17757569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosehathaway/pseuds/rosehathaway
Summary: She was finally aware that she didn't have to do any of it alone. Not even the hardest parts.





	if you must mourn (don't do it alone)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It's been forever my loves. I am so swamped with everything - trying to finish my masters thesis and working at two stores. It takes a toll. But still in the back of my mind I know you're all waiting for my next update and so I steal all the time I can. I will have more coming your way soon. Promise.
> 
> Kudos to the BEST beta in the world. Sarah, I love you and your help!
> 
> Title comes from the song You by Keaton Henson. It's very Linstead, I suggest you look it up ;)

It's way past midnight when Jay makes it home. For once, his head isn’t burdened by some heavy case they worked. This one was not particularly complicated or hard to solve. Sometimes, he enjoys cases like these, straightforward, where the bad guy is actually the bad guy, and they get to apprehend them for their crimes. There is no catch, no bigger picture. But then again, cases like these aren’t the reason he became a cop.

But finishing early gave them all a chance to catch up at Molly’s—well _almost_ all of them. Nevertheless, he enjoyed spending the night with his co-workers and friends.

He hangs his keys and his jacket, feeling a sense of calm from the familiar actions, before turning on the kitchen light. The first thing he does is open himself a beer, because _dammit_ he’s earned one. Just as he’s contemplating ordering some food, his phone chirps with a new message.

And just like that, the mere thought of _her_ makes everything better.

_Erin_.

He can picture how her head tilts slightly back when she laughs; he can imagine the way she smells of flowers with a hint of vanilla like she was in the room with him right now. He wonders if it’s weird that he misses her, despite being with her all day long the entire week. Sharing a bullpen, a car, and at the end of the day, a bed.

He wants to check in with her; they haven’t really talked all that much. At work they discussed the case, rarely drifting away from professional topics. Voight might have given them his blessing, but didn’t set any rules, and they preferred to play it safe. At the end of the day, they fell into bed together, falling asleep sated and tired more days than not. And so, the conversation evaded both of them, which left Jay with lines of worry on his forehead, because he knows. He knows she isn’t totally fine. And damned if he was going to let her slip away again.

He picks up the phone and his worry lines only intensify.

**E: I need you. Can you come over?**

He can’t even feel amused by the way she always insists on writing out all the _yous_ , refusing to comfort to the mainstream abbreviations. His mind jumps straight to worry. His beer is left on the counter, long forgotten, as he pulls on the jacket he discarded earlier and rushes out the door.

**J: On my way.**

He has a key, so he doesn’t bother knocking. His eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness that envelops the apartment. He can finally make her out, sitting at the table in the poorly lit kitchen—a bottle of vodka sitting ominously in front of her.

“I’m here.”

She looks up, her eyes watering. The expression on her face is so defeated, so final, that he feels dread in his bones when he looks at her.

“I didn’t. I called you.”

“I’m glad you did.” They both know mixing alcohol with grief can be a dangerous combination for her.

“I miss her. I always miss her, but somehow it’s worse today. I kept imagining coming home and she’d be here, and we’d order burgers and binge something on tv. Sometimes, when I’m really busy, I forget that she’s gone. And then I remember and it just hurts so much. And I feel so guilty that I forgot she was murdered. I just want to make it better.”

Jay hangs his jacket on the chair and sits down opposite her. He doesn’t push the bottle away—if she was planning on drinking, she would have done it before he came over. And she definitely wouldn’t have called him.

“Drinking isn’t going to bring her back, Erin. It’s a temporary fix. And she wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”

Erin smiles then—sadly, but genuinely. “I remember when she finally got sober, when she was sober for weeks, and one day she looked at me and said she never wanted to lose that again. That she felt free. Addicts are never truly recovered, she knew that, but she said there comes a moment when you see that sobriety is better than using. And she said once she got her moment, she knew she would never let anything compromise it.”

“You did that for her. I mean, she made it because she wanted to, but _you_ showed her there was another way. And all those happy moments she lived—they were all thanks to you.”

She cries then. Heavy tears flood down her cheeks like there is no end in sight. He holds her and pulls her tightly against him because that’s all there is for him to do. The bottle still stands on the table next to them, but now instead of dread, it fills him with hope.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for texting.”

“You were it for me, you know? The moment when I realized that being sober was better than using. Because being sober meant having you in my life, in whatever way. And after almost losing you, that was enough.”

He’s rendered speechless. Because in all this time she’s never told him this. She’s never told him that he was enough to bring her back. He remembers vividly how scared he was. In the hospital, after she saved him, he was being examined, and all he could think about was whether she was coming back, or if he’d ever see her again. Until she showed up in his hospital room and rid him of his doubts and filled his heart with hope. Hope that he swore he would never lose when it came to them.

And as they sit there, forehead to forehead, breathing each other in, he thinks this may be better than the three words he’s been longing to hear.

“Will you stay?” she murmurs against his neck, already finding a perfect place to rest her head.

“I’ll stay,” he replies, knowing that leaving was not an option for him. Not when he loved her more than his own life. Not when being with her is the only thing in his goddamn life that ever made sense. That ever felt right. “As long as you want me to.”

And as he carries her exhausted body to bed, he hopes that’s one promise he’ll never break.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to let me know what you thought!!


End file.
